The Third Heir
by chakotayka
Summary: When Thor and Loki are still children, Odin decides to adopt a third child, a girl their age who comes from the streets. Will Thor and Loki accept this new girl into their family, and how might that affect their lives as time goes on?
1. Chapter 1

Odin could not remember the last time there had been silence in his house. Certainly, there was always the escape of one of the vast numbers of rooms in the palace but even if he couldn't hear the noise, his mind sadly still knew it was there.

His two sons were beginning to get out of hand. They had only two pastimes: fighting which was undoubtedly Thor's idea and mischief which was undoubtedly Loki's. The fights he could handle. It would cause them to become great warriors when the time came that they would be old enough to head into battle. For that reason alone, he could graciously ignore the furniture that was ripped in half by someone's weapon, the paintings that were struck with renegade daggers, the vases and mirrors that were shattered, the various items in his house that caught fire either from lightning or magical fire and whatever else in his house that they so carelessly broke.

But the mischief was worse, impractical, nonsensical, utterly useless and if he was being truthful, annoying. Every day consisted of at least one prank if not more. Just yesterday, they not only released all of the steads in the stable but then Loki spooked them with magic, causing a stampede that trampled one of the servants. The man was not expected to die, but _still_ , his sons were hundreds of years old now. In just two centuries, they would be a thousand. They should know better than this.

He heard screaming down the hallway and rubbed his head to try and make the pounding go away. He stopped a guard running down the hall to ask him what was going on.

"Just a fire, sir," the man replied quickly.

He nodded wearily. "Take care of it then."

He had tried multiple ways to stop them: talks, beatings, refusal to let them eat, the removal of their favorite objects. One time he even refused to let them partake in their favorite lessons, which for Thor was sparring and for Loki was learning magic with Frigga. Nothing worked. They were saddened at the time, even apologetic, but it never stopped them from trying something again the next day. Frigga told him not to worry about it, that they were just being boys, but he was beginning to think being king of Asgard was easier than raising two sons.

He needed a ride to clear his head. With any luck, the palace would still be standing when he returned and then, he would have to think of yet another punishment that probably wouldn't get through their thick skulls anyway.

He headed to the stable and mounted his stead. He would head to the main marketplace of the city. Nothing calmed him more than seeing the peace and beauty of the city that he was mostly responsible for.

At first, it seemed like a normal day. There was the quiet bustle of people purchasing their merchandise. There were some guards patrolling the area in case there was any theft. Everything was in place.

Then a small boy ran out from the crowd and in front of one of the guards on their horses. The horse, spooked, bucked backwards, throwing the guard off of him. There was rage in the guard's eyes. Rightfully so, Odin thought. No one wanted to look weak in front of that many people.

The guard pulled out a whip and Odin almost felt sorry for the boy. He was young enough to not be held fully responsible and yet at the same time, he needed to learn. And from his clothing, he was obviously a street rat so no one else was going to show him.

Odin almost turned away as the whip came down. The young boy was already cowardly covering his face and crouching to the ground, begging for mercy. There was a reason that these people were commoners. They lacked the characteristics nobles had such as honor, bravery and courage. He waited for the whip to strike, to make the boy understand.

The whip never stuck the boy's skin. Instead, it collided with the wrist of a girl who was probably around his son's ages. She screamed at the boy to run and then smiled at the guard holding the whip. The man's eyes blazed with anger as he yanked the whip back to strike again.

Odin was shocked. Who was this girl? Was that boy their brother? What was she doing?

As the whip started to come down once more, she dropped to the ground and spun her leg out which knocked the man's feet out from under her. Odin was impressed. This girl was obviously used to fighting.

Now there were more guards coming to the aid of the first. He saw her calculating glance at them and then, in a rather cowardly move, she started to run. They were screaming for the other people to get out of the way.

Disappointing that she ran, he thought. And here he had thought she might actually make a good warrior. Still, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the girl who had entered a dead end alley. He sighed. Poor thing.

But then she leapt against one wall and pushed off of it and onto the other wall and then leapt back to the first wall until she made it to the top of the roof. His eyes widened. She was laughing now and calling down taunts.

Three guards ran to a ladder that was against one of the sides of the building. One guard ran to the other side's ladder. She grabbed something from the roof and began smacking at the piecing that attached the ladder to the building and then with a slight push, the ladder flew backwards and the men toppled to the ground.

The other man had already made it to the top of the building. She started to run towards him and Odin half expected that she merely planned to topple the guard of the building, but the man pulled out his sword and her eyes widened but she didn't slow, and as she ran past him, she lithely dodged his thrusted sword and then she leapt to the adjoining building's roof. The man began chasing her.

Odin followed from the streets below.

There was nothing that this girl could not use to run and jump on, he decided after he saw her run across a row of flag poles like she was merely running on dry ground.

There were no more buildings now in front of her and the only buildings to the side were a whole road length away. But there was a small rope that held some banners that connected the top of one building to the other. He knew she was going to go for it before she even did.

The rope was not taut enough for even her to run across. She grabbed onto it with her hands and began climbing across, placing one hand in front of the other. She couldn't drop down easily from this height.

But then the guard came to the edge of the rope and he looked disgusted and angry, and the rest of the guards were down on the ground near Odin, and Odin wondered absently how no one had noticed he was there yet.

He expected the guard to cut the rope but instead the man grabbed it with both hands and began tugging at, bouncing it, viciously pulling it back and forth.

In her credit, she struggled to keep her hands from slipping, but then she fell. It was by far not the most graceful fall he had ever seen. She fell fully on her back and made no noise or movement to get up. A fall like that couldn't hurt her could it?

Then guards were yanking her to her feet, and that seemed to bring her back, and she started violently thrashing. She pulled away and kicked one of the men in his privates so hard that even with armor on, he fell to the ground, screaming.

A guard came behind her and put a knife at the base of her throat and dragged her over to one of the stands in the marketplace. She was struggling less now because the knife was already digging into her skin and any movement would cause it to draw blood.

The guard threw her down on the table. Another two grabbed her immediately and held her down. "Now let's see," Odin heard the man say. "Shall I remove your hand or your head?"

He heard her hiss in anger.

"Head it is," the man replied coolly. He brought the sword up into the air and screamed, "In the king's name!"

Odin cleared his throat loudly and made Gungnir appear in his hand. Instantly, the people around him, including the guards, bowed. The young girl broke free from her captors the minute they went to bow and quickly spun around.

She made direct eye contact with him and held it. She was breathing heavily now, but he wasn't sure if it was from the stress or the exercise.

Her eyes flickered to the people around her and then her gaze dropped as she bowed her head. She didn't bow fully as everyone else had done. He wondered why.

"What is your name girl?" he asked loudly and she looked up at him once more.

"Zira, sire," she replied quickly.

"And the boy you saved? Was he your kin?"

She looked surprised and then shook her head. "No sire." She looked down at the ground once more. Just that action alone irritated him.

"Look at me girl. Where are your parents?"

There was hurt in her blue eyes when he asked this. Her shoulders rose and fell softly before she added, "I do not know your highness."

He wasn't really sure what he was doing, but he stretched out his hand anyway. "Come girl."

With good reason, she hesitated. Nobles did not usually take young girls off the streets with any good intentions in mind. But she didn't really have a choice did she?

She took his hand.


	2. Chapter 2

She was very, very afraid as she took the man's hand. He looked kind enough, but looks can be deceiving. And honestly, there was no innocent reason the man would want to take her with him, no? Was this not Odin, the king in whose name she almost died a few minutes ago?

Her heart was pounding as he lifted her onto the horse and placed her behind him. She was speechless. What was there to say to the Allfather, commander of everything she had ever known? She lithely tried to hide the markings on her right arm that would tell him if not who, then at the very least, _what_ she was, and she most certainly did not want that.

Instead they rode in silence all the way to the golden gates of the palace. Her heart was beating in her chest. She had never been this far into the inner city which was reserved for high-ranking officials and nobles. She only knew one thing about this section of the city: she most certainly did not belong.

Odin rode his horse to the stables, seemingly oblivious of the girl's pounding heart or sweating palms as she sat behind him on his steed. When he dismounted, he once again offered her his hand, which she cautiously took. She knew she needed no one's help to get off of a horse. Hell, she was a street rat; she never needed or had anyone's help to do anything, so she most certainly did not need this aging man's hand in anyway. Yet she was compelled to take it, fearful even that if she didn't she would anger this powerful king.

Once on ground, the man stared at her, and she stared back at him. The exchange had to last for at least a minute. The whole time she felt remarkably vulnerable and utterly small. Finally, when it felt like her heart was going to explode, the man raised an eyebrow. "Have you no questions for me?" he asked.

"Plenty," she replied, nodding before awkwardly adding in, "Sire." Was he going to kill her here? Did he think that that public execution she was about to receive without a trial would reflect badly on him and wanted to finish the deed away from prying eyes? Did he see the markings on her wrist, those markings that said that she was nothing more than a thief meant for death? Did he have detestable desires? She shuddered.

The best case scenario involved her becoming a slave or servant, whatever they wanted to call them, and honestly the last thing she wanted was to be ordered against her will for the next couple millennia. No, she'd almost prefer death.

"Well," he prompted expectantly.

She stared at him boldly. "What are you planning on doing with me?"

He tilted his head in acknowledgement. "A fair question, young one. I intend to make you a member of my family, a princess."

She couldn't keep her eyes from widening. "What?" she gasped out.

He chuckled lowly. "From what I see you have the characteristics of a king in your heart. I can think of no better place for you."

She shook her head. "I have no characteristics of a king," she couldn't stop herself from saying. She regretted the words the second they left her mouth. No matter how true they were, she knew that they were wretchedly foolish. Being brought into the home of a king could be prosperous, no matter how long the stay might be.

"Why do you say that?"

It was her turn to laugh, but she recovered quickly and bowed her head. "I'm sorry your Majesty. I just don't."

"Because you're a thief?"

She almost choked at his words.

"Do you think I was blind to not see the markings so clearly on your wrist?" he continued. She said nothing to that but grimaced in shame.

Odin called out to the servants. "Take this girl and prepare her for dinner." Then he turned to Zira. "I will tell my sons of you." And with that, he left.


	3. Chapter 3

Dinner was…awkward. The servants had done well enough fixing up the girl. There were no longer any traces of dirt and her hair was no longer dark with grime. No, in fact, it fell like golden cascades down to her chest, as gold as the necklace that she had around her neck. Her dress was a blue silk that matched her trepid eyes that scanned the table like she was waiting for attack. But besides the look of wariness, the general lack of posture and the obvious ignorance of what utensil to use for what course, she could pass for a noble for anyone who didn't know the wiser. Unfortunately for her, at this table, everyone knew.

Odin couldn't help but think that Frigga reacted remarkably well to the surprise. Although given that he had brought a frost giant, a monster, to her with the same intention and she hadn't reacted all that differently, he supposed that he shouldn't be too surprised with his queen's good graces.

Thor and Loki were a much different matter. At first both had reacted in shock and then some combination of disgust and anger. Even at the silence of the dinner table, Odin could almost still hear Thor's angrily spewed words of, "How _dare_ he bring a commoner into the palace!" and "How could he possibly let such filth become a part of their family?"

It had only taken a few stern words to put them into line. He _was_ their father, not to mention _king_ , and they would obey him and his wishes.

It didn't stop Thor from looking so vehemently mad and Loki from looking so manically snake-like. They were just approaching their adolescence; how were they possibly this pigheaded? Had he been this way with his father? He hadn't thought so.

He had hoped that the expressions would die and they would at least try to put on a princely air of diplomacy for dinner but apparently, they could both hold those furious expressions for hours, for even still, they sat across the table and glared at the girl. In her credit, she stared back, though it was more than obvious that she was uncomfortable.

"Well," Frigga started when the tension was so thick that one might actually suffocate. "We're so delighted to have you in our home, Zira." She smiled what looked to be a sincere smile. Loki snorted and Frigga sent him a look of warning.

Zira only raised an eyebrow. "Thank you for having me," she replied slowly, as if any of the words might come back to bite her.

The food was laid with food as it always was. For once in his life, Thor had not instantly divulged, and honestly neither had anyone else. Odin and Frigga at least had food on their plates, though neither had taken more than a bite. Zira had a single roll on hers which she had not even touched since it landed on her plate, and Loki and Thor were concentrating too much energy on directing their hate in her direction to even touch the food on the platters in front of them.

"Feel free to take as much as you like," Frigga offered warmly. Then she glared sternly at her sons, "Boys, staring is rude. Eat."

With her threat, both boys reluctantly dropped their stares and started to fill their plates.

Odin sent her a grateful smile and remembered exactly how much he really did love his wife.

Still, it didn't make dinner all that less awkward.

And when it was over, Frigga and Odin led Zira up to the rooms they had the servants prepare for her. The girl glanced around as they entered the bedroom. "This is _my_ room?" she questioned, observing them with scrutiny.

"They're all your rooms," Frigga said, smiling. "The parlor, the study, the bathroom and here."

The girl nodded once very slowly and took a deep breath.

"If there is anything you need, do not hesitate to ask one of the servants," Odin said.

"And you know where our room is if you need anything as well," Frigga added, sending her husband a chiding glance. They had pointed to the door as they had passed by on their way to this room. "Or if you forget you can always ask one of the servants."

"I remember," the girl said quietly.

"Good," Frigga said, continuing to smile. "Is there anything you need?"

The girl shook her head and continued to glance around the room.

"Well then we'll let you get your sleep. Good night, young one," she said.

"Good night," Zira replied to which Odin merely nodded his head.

And with that, they were gone.

She stood in the room, which felt eerily big compared to anything she had become accustomed to, and stared at the bed. She had never had a bed before, and this one was huge. It could probably fit four people, she thought.

But her first motion was not toward the bed, nor toward any of the other rooms which she had been so graciously given. No, it was toward the balcony.

She walked out and saw the city stretched out before her. Who knows were the slums were from which she came? At the moment, she really didn't care. But she was not a fool. She had never been a fool.

She glanced down. It was steep to be certain and the face of the building was smooth in most places, but quickly she saw the ledges, tiny as they were, where one piece of stone met the other. And more convenient than the inch-wide ledges were the decorative ones and the curves and twists that held patterns. Her mind quickly mapped out a route. This was going to be easy.

She threw one leg over the railing of the balcony, swearing when the dress tore as she did so. Oh well, they had taken her pants. She hoped they wouldn't mind the dress getting a little torn but it wasn't like they had given her much of an option.

She started her descent, crawling from ledge to ledge. At times she came to a spot where she had to drop a foot to get to the next one and her heart raised in her chest. She had been doing this in the streets nearly all her life, yet still it never ceased to pump her body with adrenaline.

When her feet hit ground, she clung to the wall and peered her head around for guards. Nothing. There was nothing.

And with that she was free. Absolutely free. She started to run towards the city. Sure this was still the section reserved for the upper class but it didn't matter. If she could get here, she could get anywhere.

She hadn't gotten that far from the palace before she turned and glanced up at it. It was magnificent, glorious. This all had to be a dream.

But yet at the same time it felt so very real and yet so very surreal. Her head was spinning, reeling from the change. The princes hated her that was obvious but the Allfather and Allmother seemed to be doing their best to make her comfortable. She didn't understand it, but at the same time, she didn't want it to stop.

And with that she headed back to the palace. She was well aware that the climb up was a lot harder than the descent but it didn't matter to her anymore, and once she finally got back to her room, she changed into the clothes that had been laid out for her to sleep in and crawled under the blankets.

She had no intention of running away, but she needed to know that she could. She was not a fool; she always had to have a backup plan. She didn't know what was going through these royals' minds but she did know one thing. One day they would wake up and come to their senses. Whatever novelty she posed right now would eventually be gone and they wouldn't need her anymore. People like this got bored of things. People got bored of people, and there was no doubt in her mind that these people would kick her to the curb soon enough. After all, if her own parents didn't want her, why should the king and queen of Asgard?

But for now, as she snuggled into the covers, she was content to making the most of the situation.


	4. Chapter 4

It wasn't proper for a girl to fight. She knew that. Women were supposed to learn how to defend themselves, either with magic or a sword. But they were not supposed to rage into battle along with the men. They were not supposed to go after battle. They were not supposed to like it.

Zira was anything but proper.

She wasn't entirely sure that she _liked_ fighting. In the streets, she had always fought to protect someone who needed protecting or if she was trying to escape being caught as a thief, and there was always the occasional thief that needed to be fought. She enjoyed the game of it, the strategy. She enjoyed reading people's faces to determine their moves, the way the slightest twitch of muscle or the tiniest glance could let her know their intentions. She liked the logic involved. She liked winning.

At some point, fighting became as much something that she had to do as well as something that she _needed_ to do. There weren't that many young girls out on the streets. Girls could always find some way into a house, even if it was through despicable means. So being a girl, she was looked down on, considered as weak. All it would take was a fight to prove to them that she was not. She needed it. She needed to feel strong even if it was only a delicate façade.

She had been in the palace for only two days now. Today had been the first time she had worked with the tutor. It had gone poorly to say the least. She couldn't read – most people living in the slums couldn't – but there was something in the tutor's eyes that was a mix between disgust and pity. She didn't want either.

It didn't help that when she left the room Thor and his friends were all standing outside of the door, doing their best to appear casual. Thor glanced up. "How did your tutoring go?" he asked innocuously. His friends started giggling.

"Fine," she replied coolly.

Thor nodded slowly. She could tell he didn't believe her. "Well we'll be off," he announced. "We have important warrior training to do."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? Can I come?"

Fandral laughed. "You would not enjoy yourself there."

"Why not?"

The boys looked at each other, each wanting to know if the other would answer. Finally, Fandral replied, "Because you're a woman. You'd be better suited for the magical arts."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm coming."

Thor frowned. "Fine but the trainers would not even teach you."

He wasn't quite wrong. When she announced her intent to the main teacher, he laughed so hard he had to grab his side. When he had finally calmed enough to form words again, he said, "I don't think so."

She jutted her chin out in determination. "I can be a good warrior. Just to prove it I'll fight Thor. If I win, you teach me."

The man's eyes widened as if he were just beginning to realize how serious the small girl was. "Thor is my best pupil."

"So?" she asked.

"It is one thing to be courageous and another to be foolhardy," the man replied. He glanced off in thought before saying, "I'll tell you what. If you beat Loki, I will teach you."

Volstagg and Fandral started laughing. "Welcome to training," Fandral said.

She hadn't even noticed Loki was there. He was leaning against a tree in the corner of the courtyard they were in. He glanced over at the sneering boys and looked like he wanted to go hide in a hole.

"Fine," Zira replied.

The trainer handed her a wooden sword and beckoned Loki to come over. Sighing, the boy pushed off of the tree and walked gracefully to where they were. He had a fluidity to him, like he wasn't touching the ground.

"First one to get three strikes wins."

She glanced at Loki, her new brother, the one who sneered and glared at her just nights before. She waited for a telltale sign only to realize that he was waiting for hers. They circled each other for a full minute, neither making a move, just studying each other. He was more like her than she initially thought.

She thrust forward, careful to make sure that she gave no intention of her attack. It worked. Loki's eyes widened and he stumbled backwards, tripped on a root and fell. The tip of her wooden sword rested carefully on his neck. The boy glared up at her.

She heard snickering in the background.

She offered him her hand but he stood without it and dusted himself off.

He went for the attack this time. It was a quick jab which she just barely avoided, but it left his midsection open and she thrust her sword. He hissed as it made contact and holding his side, backed up.

One more point and she would win. She couldn't contain her smile. She attacked quickly the next time, letting her exuberance take control. If nothing else, Loki was fast. He was able to dodge most of her blows or if not dodge them at least parry them, but at last, her sword smacked him in the thigh. She thought he was pretty good.

She extended her hand so that they could give each other a friendly handshake. That was something it seemed like a royal might do. "Good job," she said sweetly.

He glanced at her hand before throwing the wooden stick down and leaving the courtyard.

The other boys were still snickering.

The teacher did nothing to reprimand them. He just came up to Zira and said, "You have some talent. We'll begin training tomorrow."


	5. Chapter 5

Thor and his roving band of nobles were gone, the echo of the footsteps had ceased and she was utterly alone, yet she could still hear their voices. Harsh, cynical, mocking in an ever so polite way. Idiot, peasant, trash. The way Fandrall said even his recently hunted boar was smarter, or the way Hogun blandly looked onward as if she wasn't even worth glancing at and muttered, "illiterate waste of sustenance." The way Sif pushed one of her golden locks past her shoulder, saying, "She's not even worthy to be one of my handmaidens." Perhaps what was worse was the way Thor simply stood there, loudly guffawing. Her alleged brother who obviously did not feel like such no matter how many times Father had demanded it.

She had initially fought back. It was in her nature not to stand idly by while someone committed offended against her. On the streets, she probably would have already been in a serious enough fight with one of them that they would know never to bother her again. But this was the palace and while on the one hand the All-Father demanded prowess in combat skills, he didn't like to see them used between his family outside of the arena.

She instead tried to argue with them. She was strategic, immensely so. In the streets, she had at least five escape routes mapped in her head at any given moment; she could determine with ease whether or not people were lying and could lie faster and with more fluency than any adult she had ever met. So naturally she did not believe she was stupid, but that definitely didn't mean that she was their type of intelligence - not that Thor and his friends were any true type of intellects. Still, she couldn't fight with them. An exclamation of "I'm smart," would result in a barrage of questions: "what is the Brunnmigi?", "tell me about the Garmr," or "so you know all about Yggdrasil then?"

The answer to all was a stammering no. Frankly she wasn't sure if half of the things they were saying were made up or not, but of course, she had no way of telling, and there was no way she could remember all of them to ask someone later.

She still couldn't read. It honestly wasn't that surprising; she had only been there a few weeks. Her teacher kept telling her she was making quick progress, but it didn't feel quick like that when she knew she was centuries behind the others.

Odin assured her it was alright. He was somehow convinced that she was intelligent although she couldn't figure out why since she was doubting it herself so much. Still his confidence helped her feel slightly confident. At least he and the queen were loving and kind. They insisted on being called Mother and Father and honestly they acted like it.

Perhaps that's what it hurt all the more that Thor was so harsh with her. She had tried to talk to him about it but his only response was a curt, "Well you aren't actually my sister," before walking away. And the other brother. Well she never even saw him except occasionally in the ring, and by almost always winning, she made no friends there. Loki was allegedly very smart though, or so she had heard, so no doubt his criticism would be even more scathing. It might be best to avoid them all.

She glanced back down at the book in front of her. She had picked one without pictures this time. She was far too old for something so trivial, but she could scarcely pick out even a tenth of the words in this book. She felt hot tears forming in her eyes. Idiot! Waste! Trash!

Their words ricocheted through her head, shattering all of the thin walls in place. Tears begin rolling down her cheeks and drip, drip, dripped onto the page.

"You'll make the ink run if you keep that up," a voice said from behind her, deadpan and impassive as ever.

She turned to see the younger prince casually leaning against one of the book shelves in the room. She was in the library. Maybe it wasn't that unexpected to see the scholarly boy here.

She vehemently wiped away her tears. "I was just reading something so tragic. That's all." She regretted the words the second that they came out of her mouth. What if he looked at the section she was "reading" and knew she was lying. She slammed the book shut.

Loki simply raised an eyebrow. "A girl from the slums who gets emotional reading from an encyclopedia?" He said no more and yet she could feel the slight derision.

She stood. "Excuse me." She didn't know where she was going to, but, oh, she didn't want to be here. If Thor was any precedent, then his brother must be a nightmare.

She walked past him and to the door before hearing a rather timid, "Wait."

She paused though she didn't know why she even bothered. "What?" she hissed, turning to face him.

"You don't need to act so hostile to me," he stated softly, glancing at the floor. He looked like an unsure child, so unlike his proud brother. "I have a proposition."

Now she raised her eyebrow. She had heard from Odin that Loki liked to pull pranks. How could this not be one of them? There was no way that he would approach someone like her, or that he would ever need anything from someone like her. Still, she decided to humor him. Thor and his friends were probably watching somewhere. She might as well give them a show. "Yes?" she replied amicably.

Green eyes stared piercingly through her. "Do you not think I know what's like? To be mocked for something ridiculous that you don't excel at even though it has no effect on who you are?" This statement caught her off guard and she stared at the boy and his candidness. "You are not stupid," he continued. "The way you fight is so unlike Thor or any of his friends. That's why you can beat them. You use your surroundings. You use logic. You use deceit. I want you to help me learn how to fight and I will help you learn how to read."

She stared at him for a moment in shock. Now that was honestly not what she was expecting. It didn't feel like he was lying. In fact, he either had no tells whatsoever or he was actually telling the truth. "Is this a joke?" She stammered out.

He shook his head. "I am quite serious. Do we have a deal?" He held out his hand.

And against all of her instincts, she took his hand and gave it a shake. "Okay, but if this is some sort of joke..." She didn't know how to finish her threat and so didn't.

The prince simply shook his head. "Of course not."


	6. Chapter 6

**Hi! Sorry it's a little short, but I figured short was better than nothing, right? Hope everyone enjoys it!**

* * *

The door opened with a click and slowly she pushed it open. The large oak door creaked on its hinges, alerting all of the room's occupants of her presence. All being one of course, if Loki had kept his promise and that was indeed the question.

Bright green eyes glanced up from a book before glancing back and murmuring, "You're late."

She smirked. There was no doubt this boy was a prince; his quietly spoken yet perfectly enunciated words were laced with authority and derision. A servant would have started quivering.

"I'm never late; you're early," she quipped back. His eyes flickered to hers. He was clearly not amused.

With a sigh, he closed the book he was reading and placed it on the table. "Shall we get started?" he asked, motioning for her to join him at the table.

"Are we alone?"

If she had thought he looked annoyed before, she hadn't known what annoyance was until that moment. He took a deep breath like he was physically restraining himself from saying something and, glancing away, pursed his lips as if it was the only way he could hold in whatever deadly words he had conjured. Instead she got the rather benign and tempered response, "I always keep my promises." And with those words, his face became the perfect mask of indifference again, like nothing in the world could phase him. He gestured to the seat again and gave her a rather princely smile. "Shall we?"

She couldn't care less about the poor prince's feelings. So what if he was annoyed? The room that they had decided to meet in was a small study area in the library. It only held two tables and two rows of bookcases. She stormed past a surprised Loki and quickly peeked her head down the aisles before coming back and sitting with him.

They sat there in silence, staring at each other. One of his eyebrows was ever so slightly raised. "You thought I lied?"

"I had no reason to think you were telling the truth. You've snickered at my expense before. Why should I think that this was not some prank between you and Thor?"

"Yes peasant, I've mocked you. I've questioned Father's judgment daily, and yet regrettably, you seem to be a rather permanent addition to our family. Father hasn't tired of you. Mother only grows fonder, and you haven't seen the sense yet and scampered off. Thus, here we are." He dropped a book down on the table with a thud. "What you haven't seemed to grasp is that I don't have to like you. You have something I need. This is a barter, nothing more."

Zira nodded once slowly. Barters were something she understood. "Fair enough. Let's do this."


End file.
